Kat's Pride. Sharon Kendrick
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Название: Kat's Pride
Автор: Sharon Kendrick
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408928172
isbn:
By now she was feeling very hungry. It seemed a long time since her flight into France this morning and she never ate the disgusting food they served on scheduled flights. She needed to eat something, but was loath to go down into the galley in case she bumped into any of the other crew. Because wouldn’t that seem like some silent admission of defeat?
Instead, she went back into the dining room and looked around to see what was left from the remains of the meal on the table. Not a lot. She ate a banana, two pomegranates and some rich, dark chocolate. And then, more out of defiance than desire, opened a bottle of wine whose label she recognised as being one of the world’s finest and poured herself a large glassful.
Never a big drinker, the bouquet and depth of the claret was wasted on her, but at least the wine made her feel better. And more than a little rebellious. Her feelings of disbelief that this should actually be happening to her began increasingly to be replaced with a sense of fury. Just you wait, Carlos Guerrero, she vowed silently as she finished off the glass of costly wine and poured herself a second, before flopping down on a wide, squashy sofa which was heaped with cushions and staring out of the windows.
Watching the frilly white tips of the waves as the yacht powered its way over the sapphire sea, Kat was almost halfway through the bottle when she heard a sound which made her heart miss a beat. And then begin to accelerate with excitement.
It was the sound of a rich man’s toy. The distinctive whirr-whirr chopping sound from overhead which could mean only one thing—a helicopter! And whoever was flying it would surely take pity on her and whisk her away from this luxurious prison.
Slamming the glass down on the table, Kat lurched to her feet. She would throw herself on the pilot’s mercy. Inform him—or her—that she was being held here against her will and that she wished to be taken to the nearest police station.
But her rush to reach the deck and the helicopter pad seemed blighted—probably due to the amount of alcohol she’d drunk and her high-heeled espadrilles. To her horror, Kat slithered on the wooden floor and ended up sitting slam on her bottom. And by the time she had scrambled to her feet and got her bearings and worked out which of the many doors would give her access to the helicopter pad, she heard the heartbreaking sound of accelerating propellers. Which could only mean one thing. Please, please don’t leave without me catching you, she prayed, even as she heard the loud rush of air which indicated that the craft was indeed now heading skywards.
With a small whimper she flung open one of the doors and hurled herself through it—only to be brought up short by a solid object as she cannoned into it.
A very solid object indeed.
‘Buenas tardes, querida,’ came a deeply accented voice which trickled over her senses like thick, dark honey.
And to her horror, Kat found herself staring up into the forbidding features of Carlos Guerrero.
KAT stared up into icy black eyes which were skating over her with undisguised disapproval. ‘You!’ she accused, though her knees had turned to jelly and her heart was thundering so loudly that she felt quite faint. But what woman in the world wouldn’t feel the same if confronted with that spectacular physique, clad in close-fitting black jeans and a soft white silk shirt—even if his handsome face was so cold that it might have been sculpted from some glittering piece of dark marble? ‘Carlos Guerrero!’ she breathed.
‘Who were you expecting?’ challenged Carlos silkily. ‘It is my boat after all.’
Trying like mad to control the writhing tumult of her feelings, Kat glared at him. ‘I thought…I thought I was in the middle of a nightmare, but it turns out it’s true.’
‘You mean you don’t want to be here?’ he mocked, his black eyes piercing into her like twin lasers.
Instinctively she stepped away. Away from the raw, masculine scent of him, and the heat which emanated from his powerful body. Away from the dangerous sizzle of sexuality which surrounded him like a dark and sensual aura and made her want to run her fingers through his riotous black curls.
‘I’d rather be anywhere but here—with you,’ she said. And yet didn’t her words carry a hollow ring to them, because how could she protest at his presence when already she could sense his irresistible magnetism? The kind that made women—and her especially—make complete fools of themselves. Well, not this time—that was for sure. ‘Anywhere,’ she finished bitterly.
‘I can assure you that the feeling is entirely mutual, querida.’
‘Then let me go,’ she breathed. ‘Send for the helicopter and let it take me away.’
‘No,’ he negated harshly. ‘I cannot and I will not.’
Kat looked at him in alarm. ‘But you can’t keep me here against my will!’
‘Can’t I?’ A slow and mocking smile curved the edges of his lips. ‘Aren’t you even a little bit curious about why you’re here—or did you think I was just longing for a little of your exclusive company?’
‘Of course not,’ she snapped. ‘Any more than I’m longing for yours!’
‘Good. Because, believe me—you were never going to be my number-one choice of sailing companion.’
Eyes narrowing, Carlos began to study her. She was beautiful, he conceded reluctantly. Even more beautiful than he remembered. Black hair tumbled like wild, dark silk over her shoulders, and her eyes were the most astonishing shade of blue he’d ever seen, framed by outrageously long, curling black lashes. Her lips were as pink as crushed rose petals—and her body was positively sinful.
Unfashionably curvy, she had the kind of legs which seemed to go on for ever—a fact emphasised by the tiny pair of denim shorts she wore, along with a pair of high-heeled espadrilles which showcased her painted toenails. Luscious-looking breasts were thrusting towards him as if crying out for him to cup them in the palms of his hands—their fullness set off perfectly by the simple white T-shirt which stretched tightly over them. So that they looked like two ripe peaches which had been smothered in cream…
But she left him cold. Completely cold. Her type always did. She was a predatory type of modern woman who flagrantly used her sexuality like a bitch in heat. Who saw what she wanted and then just went right out and took it. His mind took him back to the extravagant ball her family had thrown last year—when she had approached him with all the subtlety of a cheap prostituta, and his mouth hardened with remembered contempt.
¡Maldición! It was a pity he was forced to accommodate such a woman as this on the sanctuary of his beloved yacht—but he owed her father. Owed him more than he could ever say. And perhaps it would be amusing to snap this spoiled little madam from out of the privileged bubble in which she seemed to exist.
‘Have you qu-quite finished?’ questioned Kat in a voice which was shaking with rage and humiliation—for she had never been stared at like that before. She attracted attention, yes—but no man had ever had the temerity to study her as if she was being slowly stripped naked by a pair of contemptuous eyes. And СКАЧАТЬ